The Angry River

– By Sramana Dan (Informals Team)

 The Angry River

Hungrier than ever.

Tip-toes into the sleepy unsuspecting town.

The Lost Boy scurries

Down the hill barefoot and buries

Himself under the plumes of her billowing gown.

The Angry River

Bleeding from a black fever

Ambushes the neurotic priestess amidst her prayer.

The crumbled shrine lies tortured

Over wretched bodies and souls, interrupted

In the offerings of faith to their failed Saviour.

The Angry River

There wasn’t enough room for her.

She felt bruised and lonely and deprived.

Then the mountains melted

And rain and snow and stones were hurtled

At her. She stretched out her cramped legs and cried.


Earlier this year, flash floods wreaked havoc in Uttarakhand. I spent the first five years of my life there, this was written about the river.


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